


Friendly Fire

by notthequiettype



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Five Times, Friendship, Girl!Stiles, stiles is and always has been a girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-05
Updated: 2012-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthequiettype/pseuds/notthequiettype
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there are six kisses and it's a story about a relationship, but the kind that ends in friends instead of orgasms.</p><p>or </p><p>Five times Scott kisses Stiles and one time Stiles kisses Scott.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendly Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is my girlfriend's fault because she is a monster. I like Scott/Stiles and she doesn't, but then she was like, "Make Stiles a girl!" and I'm not even sure what happened.

**1.**

"Your painting is pretty. I like the cat in the tree. Orange is my favorite color."

"Thank you." Stiles adjusts her paper plate. Her hands are covered in paint and she has big orange stripes down one leg of her pants. "What are you drawing?"

Scott rubs at his nose, pale blue streaks already dry across the bridge. "A whale. They're my favorite."

Stiles nods. "Whales eat krill. They're big."

"Do you want to be friends?"

Stiles smiles and rubs more green into the grass at the bottom of her picture. "Okay."

Scott wraps his arms around her, hugging her arms to her body, and kisses her on the cheek. Stiles shoves him back and he almost drops his plate of blue paint. "I don't want to be your friend if you spit on me." She rubs her hand across her cheek.

Scott shrugs. "Sorry. Friends still?"

Stiles mixes some brown into her green so she can finish the trunk of her tree. "Yeah, okay."

 

**2.**

Stiles has a red vine hanging out of her mouth when the empty bottle of Coke stops spinning, its red cap pointing straight at her crossed legs. Of _course_. Scott grimaces and the rest of the circle breaks out in excited howls. Stiles hates spin-the-bottle. She leans in about a quarter of the way across the circle, making Scott cross the rest of the way on his hands and knees. 

She rolls her eyes at him. He leans in, murmurs "Sorry," and kisses her half on the edge of her mouth and half on the face. The circle cheers. Stiles spins the bottle. It lands on Lydia Martin. Maybe spin-the-bottle's not so bad.

 

**3.**

If one more person tells either her or Scott that they're a cute couple, Stiles is probably going to tear someone to shreds with her bare hands. No amount of "We're not dating" will shut up adults that aren't their parents. Mrs. Mapleton at the library keeps asking Stiles if she's going to marry Scott and it's not only grossly presumptuous of her, but _irritating as hell_. 

"I don't believe in marriage, Mrs. Mapleton. I'm thirteen. And Scott's just my best friend." 

"Oh, honey, that's exactly who you want to marry."

Stiles wants to throttle her. 

She and Scott are up late on a Saturday playing Xbox. She's had three Mountain Dews and a half a giant bag of M&Ms. She's a little wired.

Scott pauses the game without warning and she hits him hard enough to knock the controller out of his hand. "Dude. Cardinal rule."

"Sorry." Scott takes a long drink of his root beer. "Do you think we should try it?"

Stiles turns to him, face twisted up in confusion. "Try... what?"

"Dating?"

"Did you go to the library before you came over here?"

"I had to pay my fines. The book I took out for Mr. Kline's class was three months overdue."

"Mrs. Mapleton is just weird and sad."

"What if we're missing out on something?"

"You know I like Lydia."

"I know, but Lydia likes Jackson."

"Just because she doesn't usually remember that I exist doesn't mean she isn't harboring secret lesbian feelings toward me."

"I'm not ugly, am I?"

"What? No. You're... I don't know. You're fine, probably. You're my best friend. I don't know." Stiles arms go kind of wild at the end, flailing.

"I don't... Think you're ugly."

Stiles feels her cheeks go warm and she wants to crawl under her bed and hide. "Thank you."

"You've never thought about it?"

"Have you?"

Scott shrugs, teeth pressing into his bottom lip. "Maybe."

" _Dude_."

"You're, like, a girl! I'm around you all the time! What am I supposed to do?"

" _Not think about me like that_."

Scott falls back on the bed and sighs. "I'm never going to kiss anybody."

Stiles rolls her eyes and lays back next to him, shoulders touching. "It's not like you smell and you don't have three eyes or anything. Someone's going to kiss you eventually."

"Eventually."

"It's not like I'm rolling around in it, man. My mom says we're both in our awkward phases and we'll grow out of it."

"Maybe you will. My mom says my dad didn't get cool until his late twenties and then it didn't even last very long."

Stiles fidgets against the bed, rubs her feet together where they're hanging off the bed. "So... what did you think about?"

"When?"

Stiles groans. "Like, about me. Or us. Or whatever."

"Uh." Scott turns to look at her, one eye closed like he's trying to hide. "You... Got boobs. And I thought. That was cool?"

" _Gross_."

"I know, okay? Jeez."

"They're not even boobs." Stiles stares down at her chest, chin tucking in. "They're like... Trial boobs. Like, maybe I'll get better ones if I pass some kind of test with these."

"They'll probably, you know, keep growing."

" _Dude_." Stiles crosses her arms over her chest, holds her elbows.

"Sorry. I just mean. Like, they're... Good? Now. But probably, you'll grow more."

" _Scott_." Stiles knows her face has to be completely red.

" _Sorry_. I just mean that you shouldn't worry. You're good now and you'll be good later. Whether you change or not."

Stiles is quiet for a while, trying to regulate her breathing. She's so embarrassed, but Scott's her best friend and he has a big heart and he's always there for her. "Do you want to, I don't know. Do you want to try kissing?"

Scott sits up so fast he almost slides off the end of the bed. "Wait, what?"

Stiles sighs and sits up. "We could try it once and see, like, if it's something to try more than once."

"Right now?"

Stiles shrugs. "It's not like I have other plans."

Scott's face is an intense mixture of excitement and anxiety. His mouth is turned up at the edges like he can't decide if he wants to smile and his forehead is furrowed. "Okay. How do you--?"

Stiles huffs, exasperated and turns toward him. "No hands. We just lean in and kiss for a count of three."

"Okay."

They both lean in and gently bump heads, laughing a little, awkwardly, and tilting their heads until they can slot their mouths together. It's mostly dry and Scott's lips are chapped, but Stiles can kind of see where it would be okay with the right person. She counts off three beats in her head and pulls back. "Okay."

Scott makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. "Does that even count? Like, is that what everyone is doing after school before their parents get home?"

"No, they're probably making out."

"I don't feel like we're giving this a fair shot."

"What do you want? A friggin' handjob?"

" _Oh my god_. No. I just think we should, you know, mean it."

"Fine. One more time. If you reach for my chest, I reserve the right to break all of your fingers."

"Agreed."

"All ten."

" _Agreed_. Jeez."

Stiles lets Scott lean into her because this whole thing was his idea, so he might as well be doing the work. She settles her hands on his thigh, just resting and kisses him, eyes closed and lips parted. Scott's tongue darts into her mouth, wet and warm and heavy, and she tries not to grimace. She licks at it, their lips sort of opening and closing against each other. Scott's hands settle on her waist, which they didn't agree to, but is kind of okay. It makes the kissing more like hugging and she's hugged Scott plenty of times. It lasts for a few seconds longer before they both pull back, hands dropping to their own laps. Scott's whole face is red and his lips are shiny. She knows she's blushing. They're quiet for a long time.

"So?" Scott looks at her, his eyebrows raised.

"You have a lot of teeth."

He opens his mouth and runs his tongue along his front teeth. "I have the regular amount of teeth."

"It just seemed like there were a lot of them, I don't know. Like, twice as many as normal."

"It was weird." Scott's shoulder slumps, resigned.

"It was really weird."

"You're my best friend."

"Maybe that's what we're meant to be. Just 'cause other people think stuff about us doesn't mean we have to."

"Yeah." Scott falls back on the bed again, folds his hands under his head. "People are dumb."

"Uh. Scott?" Stiles is staring at Scott's jeans, Scott's kind of... unusually bulged jeans. "Dude?"

Scott glances down, eyes going wide, and rolls off the bed. "Oh my god!"

"Didn't you notice?!"

"It didn't seem that bad!" Scott's hugging the side of the bed, face tucked into the comforter. "I'm really sorry. _Oh my god_."

Stiles sits there, jaw dropped open, for almost a minute before she starts laughing, loud and hysterical and so hard that she's shaking the bed. "You are _the worst_."

Scott's face is still buried against the bed and his answer's muffled. "I know. I'm sorry. Don't hate me?"

Stiles holds her hand out so he can catch it and pulls him back up toward the bed. She's still laughing. "Never."

 

**4.**

Stiles' mom dies on a Tuesday. She's been sick for almost a year and Stiles keeps telling everyone that they've talked about it, that she knows it's coming, that she's ready. Scott knows she isn't, but he nods and says he understands anyway.

Scott's at the house when Stiles and her dad get back from the hospital. He's sitting on the porch with his arms crossed over his knees. Stiles grabs his hand and drags him upstairs behind her, their fingers laced tight together. Stiles closes the door behind them, takes off her jacket, and slumps to the ground against the foot of her bed.

Scott's eyes go wide and he drops to the ground next to her, arms going around her shoulders. "Stiles? You okay?"

Stiles nods, face pale, almost sickly. "Yeah, it's fine. Knew it was coming. Supposed to be easier, right?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. Nothing makes this easier."

"I just wanted her to come home." Stiles' voice cracks. "I thought she'd get to come home one more time. I didn't think she'd have to die there. I didn't want her to die in that bed with all the hospital smells and everyone waiting for it like she was just one more body." There are tears streaming down Stiles' face. He's only seen her cry twice before. She's always holding everything in.

"You were there. I know that helped. My mom says it always does."

"I just kept thinking, you know, maybe she was going to get better. Maybe she was going to surprise everyone." Stiles chokes back a sob. "I kept hoping. I prayed. I _begged_. I don't--" Stiles gives into it then, big heavy sobs wracking her body. Scott leans against the bed and pulls her against his chest. She tucks her face into his shirt, soaking the cotton, her entire body shaking against him.

He buries his face in her short hair and rubs her back in big circles. He feels the second her breaths turn desperate, panicked. He palms the sides of her face. "Stiles, come on. Look at me." She opens her eyes and stares into his, nods. He rubs his thumbs against her jaw and grabs her hand, spreads it wide over his chest. "Try to breathe like me, okay? Remember how that helps?" She nods again, breath rasping loudly. 

Scott takes long breathes, big even ones that stretch his lungs to their asthmatic capacity. It takes her a minute to find the rhythm, but she breathes with him eventually, still crying, forehead pressed to his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I haven't had one of those in months."

"Hey, no, don't say you're sorry. That's dumb." He palms the back of her head. "I'm not sorry for my inhaler. It's the same thing. Just think of me as yours."

Stiles laughs against the wet fabric at his shoulder and settles against him on the floor. "Thanks."

Scott kisses her temple, just the softest press of his mouth to her skin and hair. "Always."

 

**5.**

"I just felt like we'd really connected, you know? And she just blows me off like that."

"Scott, I mean, I feel you, dude, but... you went out _once_."

"Yeah but we'd talked on the phone like three times. Do you know how big of a deal that is? Plus all the texts."

"Well, totally, I see how that's just, like, an unbelievably big deal, but do you think, just maybe, you're kind of blowing this whole thing up?" Stiles loves Scott, really, he's her best friend, but he is a drama king of epic proportions and she didn't really want to spend her Saturday night babysitting him through this thing he keeps calling a break-up, but is really just Julia Hernandez deciding she didn't want to go out with him again.

"Maybe a little, but it doesn't make it hurt any less, Stiles."

Stiles is trying, really and truly, but she rolls her eyes and shoves Scott off the bed. "Stop being such a baby."

Scott lays on his back and folds his arms over his eyes. "You don't understand me."

Stiles rolls her eyes again, for her own benefit since Scott can't see anything. "I understand you better than anyone in the entire world."

"You don't understand my _pain_."

Stiles jumps up and kind of throws herself down on top of Scott, straddling his thighs and twisting one of his arms down at a painful angle. Scott yelps. "I understand how sad you are that you only got to make out with Julia once. She is totally hot and she has the biggest boobs in the freshman class and she's actually really funny. But get over it."

"Ow ow ow, fucking _uncle_ , Jesus." Stiles lets Scott's arm go and he rubs at his elbow. "You are _aggressive_."

"Field hockey, bitch."

"Bench hockey maybe."

Stiles mouth drops open and she makes an offended noise in the back of her throat. "Says Mr. Only-Made-JV-Lacrosse-Out-of-Pity."

Scott grabs her ankle and pulls it up toward his armpit, twisting. "Uncalled for."

"Jesus, _ow_." She shifts her leg to give the one Scott has trapped room to move. She doesn't say uncle unless she's about to vomit in pain, she can handle an overstretched leg.

Scott uses the flex in her knee to catch his arm under it and reverse their positions. Her head thuds where it hits the carpet and her left leg is trapped underneath both her own and Scott's weights. "You mock my pain, I make yours real." He laughs maniacally in her face.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry." Stiles grins, teeth pressing into her bottom lip. "I'm sorry you're _so bad at kissing_ that Julia's avoided you ever since."

Scott actually gasps in outrage, mouth dropping open. "I am _not_ bad at kissing."

"Mmhmm, of course not."

"I'll prove it."

"You going to make out with a pillow and make me watch?"

Scott's cheeks flush, fast and dark. "No."

" _Oh my god_ , are you threatening to kiss me?"

"Not threatening. Just. Suggesting."

"Okay, well, first before we examine all of the issues inherent in that suggestion. Can you unpin my leg?"

Scott sits up, one knee between Stiles', and lets her loose her leg from where it's trapped. "Sorry."

"It's okay. You gave up without me having to say uncle. I win." Stiles claps for herself.

"I could re-pin you."

"You won't because you want to kiss me."

" _Oh my god_. I hate you."

"No you don't. You love me and you want to kiss me."

"I'm leaving here and never, ever coming back. Friendship over."

Stiles reaches up and grabs Scott's wrist. "Shut up." She pulls him down and their genitals line up in a way she's not totally comfortable with, but willing to suffer through for the next few minutes. "Come on, this is your one shot. Prove you don't suck and I'll ask Julia why she ditched you."

"You'll just say I suck. You want to humiliate me."

Stiles holds three of her fingers up, a memory from her days as a Daisy. She hadn't gone any farther than that. "On my honor, I'll be fair and impartial."

Scott's forehead crumples, eyebrows knitting together. "I know you're screwing with me, I just don't know how."

"You almost never know anything."

Scott dips his head then and kisses her. It's rougher than she knows he really means, his hands braced on either side of her head, and their teeth bumping. Scott tilts his head so their noses press side by side, and then his tongue is pressing at her mouth, gentle, almost soft enough to tickle and she's kind of gasping and opening up to it, letting him lick past her teeth against her tongue. It's better than the last time, hotter and more skilled, and if there were a gun to her head she'd probably admit that she's kind of into it. It's not Scott, she knows that, she doesn't want Scott like that, but she'd kind of kill to have this with anyone at this point and, to be fair and impartial, Scott's _good_.

Scott's hand closes against her neck, tilting her jaw up so he can kiss her deeper, teeth pulling at her bottom lip in a way she doesn't expect to like, but _totally fucking does_. There's something about it that clears her head though and she opens her eyes and kind of awkwardly pushes at Scott's chin until they separate. " _Dude_."

"Uh." Scott jerks up on to his knees and is standing and staring down at her before she can even sit up. "Uhhh."

Stiles extends a hand up toward him. "A little help?"

"Oh." Scott grabs her hand and pulls her up from the ground. "Sorry."

Stiles sits down on the foot of the bed, folding her legs up under her. Scott sits down next to her and stares at his hands. They're quiet for way longer than either of them can normally manage before Scott says, "So. Still weird?"

Stiles' entire body relaxes, shoulders slumping. "Oh yeah, dude, _totally weird_. I mean, you're good! To be fair and all, like, I mean." Stiles grins, biting at her bottom lip. "Like, wow, really good?" 

Scott grins too, cheeks still pink. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, totally. But, you know, you're _you_ and I'm me and you still seem like you have a lot of teeth? And, you know, _Lydia_. And, like, you're my best friend! It was weird."

Scott flops back on the bed and sighs. "Yeah, you're right."

Stiles stares at the crotch of Scott's jeans and punches him in the thigh. "Dude, _again_?!"

 

**& 1.**

Scott is _losing his shit_ , snarling and thrashing and throwing himself around against the restraints pinning him to the wall. Stiles is close to losing her shit too and Derek won't let her get near Scott, physically holding her back when she tries to run toward him. 

"I told you not to come here tonight, Stiles. I told you it was going to be bad."

"He's going to hurt himself!"

"Yeah, probably, and then he's going to heal. It's going to be fine."

"Asshole." It's the first full moon since Allison took off with her dad and Scott's going apeshit because he's lost his anchor. He kept telling them he'd be fine, that it wasn't about Allison being his girlfriend or being nearby, that it was just about the idea of her. Derek had chained him up anyway and as much as it kills Stiles to admit it, he needed it. If he weren't literally shackled to a concrete wall he'd probably be tearing apart something fleshy and innocent.

Stiles hates seeing Scott like this, would probably hate seeing any of them like this, this out of control, out of their mind, angry and vicious and lost. She steps to the line Derek's designated the safe zone and calls out to Scott. "Come on, Scott, buddy, come on. You can get this under control."

Derek laughs, mirthless. "Talking isn't going to work."

"Then what will, smart guy?"

"Nothing."

"Scott, listen, you can control this. We figured it out once before. It's your heart. You have to slow it down. I know Allison's not here--"  
Scott roars, guttural and dark, and Stiles fights the wince that feels like it wants to take over her entire body. "She's not here, but I am, Scott. Remember the heart rate monitor? You got your ass kicked and didn't shift. You've fought this a dozen times, Scott. You can stop this."

That's the second the bolt pulls loose of the wall and Scott has a free hand. Derek yells, pushes Stiles out of the way, but Stiles grabs at his shirt. "Stop it!"

She doesn't know what it is in her voice, but Derek stops cold and turns toward her. "He's going to get loose, Stiles. We can't risk it."

"Just. Let me get close to him for a minute. Please."

Derek's jaw tenses. "Fine, but I'm no less than six inches from either of you the entire time."

"Fine." Stiles approaches Scott slowly, head bowed in submission. "Hey, Scotty. Not a threat, okay? Your friend? Stiles?"

Scott's panting, chest heaving under his sweat soaked t-shirt. His free hand is hanging limp at his side, blood leaking from under the steel cuff. He doesn't move as she approaches and she takes it as his consenting to her company.

She holds up a water bottle to him. "Thirsty?"

Scott nods and takes it from her, downing it in a half-dozen swallows and tossing it to the ground. He groans a little.

She raises her hand. "I'm going to touch your chest okay, Scott? I just want to feel your heart, okay?" Scott doesn't say anything, but he doesn't move when she settles his palm against his ribcage. His freed hand still hangs at his side. His heart is pounding, his breath tearing out of his chest worse than any asthma attack she ever heard him have.

She turns to Derek. "Give me the key."

"You can't let him out."

"I'm not going to. _Give me the god damn key_."

Derek passes her the key and she undoes the band at his wrist, fingers gentle at the scrapes. "I don't like to see you hurt, Scott." She lifts his hand and settles the palm against her chest, just below her throat, claws against her skin. "Remember when you used to help me breathe?" Scott nods, eyes heavy, hair wet and stuck to his forehead. "Breathe with me, okay?" Stiles takes a big breath, huge, as long as she can, until it's burning in her chest, and lets it out just as slowly. She feels like she's drowning, but Scott does it with her the third time and she knows it's worth it.

"That's it. See? Slow your heart down. You're not in any danger, none of us are, not even Allison." Stiles feels Scott's body tense under her hand, but she just pushes closer. "Everyone's okay, Scott. You're okay. It's the moon. This isn't you. You're not like this."

She feels Scott's claws retracting against her, disappearing into his fingertips, and she gasps. "Oh, Jesus. Thank you. Are you okay?" Scott growls a little, eyes flashing, fangs pressing into his lip. "Come here, come here." She holds his face in her hands and rubs her thumb against his bottom lip. "I'm right here, Scott. Everything's okay. Come back to me." Her voice cracks a little, heat prickling her eyes. "Please don't let this take you away from me. Please don't let this break you." Her mouth closes against his, soft and dry. "It's my fault. I took you into the woods and it's my fault and I'm so sorry." She won't let the tears fall, but she can't stop the desperate noise that comes out of her.

"Not." Scott coughs into her hair and she jerks her head up to look at him. His teeth are normal and his eyes are warm and brown and human. "Not your fault. You didn't know. I didn't have to follow you."

She smiles, wrapping her arms around his ribs and squeezing. "Like you'd ever let me do something cool without you."

"Like you'd ever be capable of doing something cool without me."

Derek grabs the key from her hand and makes quick work of Scott's remaining restraints. She rubs at his wrists. "Can we please, please not do this next month?"

"And pass up on Hale hospitality?" Derek throws a bottle of water at him, but Scott catches it effortlessly. "Thanks for not letting me kill anybody. And for letting her boss you around."

Derek nods. "Do this again next month and neither of you are coming out alive." He leaves them with that.

"He's so _pleasant_." Stiles pulls out of Scott's arm. "You smell _so bad_."

"You kissed me." Scott's grinning.

"Oh my god." Stiles makes a noise in the back of her throat. "You're the worst."

"You think I'm totally hot and you want me and you kissed me."

"You're actually, literally the worst."

"Just admit it."

Stiles stops in front of him, presses her hands to his shoulders, and leans in close to his ear. "Is that what you want me to say? That I want you so bad I can't stand it most days? That I think about you in bed, in the shower, whenever my hand's between my legs? That you're just _that hot_?"

Stiles pulls back long enough to watch Scott's face contort from confused to lost to nervous and settle on something like concern before she leans back in. "Oh shit, sorry, that's not you, that's _Derek_."

"Ugh, _Stiles_ , gross. You know I don't want to hear about that."

Stiles laughs, loud and echoing in the warehouse. "What? You asked for it."

"Can't you talk about Lydia instead?"

Stiles punches him in the arm. "Gross, you pervert."

"I'm just saying, if you're going to talk about it, at least give me something worth thinking about."

"Ugh, you're the worst. Friendship over."

Scott slings his arm around Stiles' shoulders and squeezes. "Never."


End file.
